


Runway Walk

by xxELF21xx



Series: What I Like Most is the Taste of Summer [1]
Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Human, Codenames, Crack, Developing Friendships, First Meetings, Gen, M/M, Modelling Agencies, Overprotective Red Wine, Rated T for Thirst, Sexual Tension, The Author Regrets Everything, The thirst is real, Toso and Yuxiang are losing their minds, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 20:51:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15893919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxELF21xx/pseuds/xxELF21xx
Summary: 'This is your new partner, Steak,' Yuxiang introduced, a warning in her eyes. The redheaded male gave him a shy smile, hand outstretched.Red Wine's grin stretches into a predatory smirk, dark eyes sparking with interest. He grabs the offered hand, tugging Steak into an embrace. The younger model yelps, flushing a brilliant pink.'I like my steak raw, thank you.'The adorable blush and awkward fumbling from Steak was probably the most rewarding thing in his modelling career.





	Runway Walk

**Author's Note:**

> the steakwine server made me do it. 
> 
> Dino, if you're reading, this is your fault.

He really didn't understand  _why_ he was being assigned a  _partner_ for this photoshoot. Huffing, he stomps into his manager's office, noting that B-52 was there as well. The boy looked morose, kicking his feet unhappily, and twisting the lollipop in his mouth sullenly. 

 _It makes two of us,_ he thinks dryly, plopping himself down into a seat. '52,' he greets, trying not to bore himself, 'I didn't know you were involved as well.' B-52 snapped to attention, flustered, waving his hands clumsily in front of him, mouth spewing up reasons why he was here as well. Red Wine snorts, rolling his eyes, 'heard you were being shipped off to do a photoshoot with the  _Tofus,'_ his lips curl in mild disgust at the mention of the two brothers. 

B-52 groans, shoving a cushion into his face.  _Ah, guess he was dreading the collaboration as well._ 'It's going to be  _torture,'_ the boy mumbles, chucking his lolly stick into the trash bin. Red Wine hums, 'I heard Chocolate and Coffee are going to be there as well, just seek their help if you're being bothered. Besides, won't Vodka be there with you?' His friend mutters something, shaking light hair into mismatched eyes. 

The clacking of heels draws his attention away from the boy; Yuxiang strides in, Tusu hot on her heels. Both women tip their heads as a greeting, with the purple-haired lady cooing over B-52 for a second before moving away. 'The both of you are being assigned new partners for the collaboration with Spaghetti's agency. The client  _specifically_ asked for the both of you; so I want only the best behaviour, you understand?' Red Wine suppresses his urge to groan, humming in response. Yuxiang was an awfully blunt woman, sometimes.

'Remember - code names only. Don't go tattling your real names to others,' Tusu chimed in, pausing in her efforts to tame B-52's shaggy hair. 'What, like we don't know already?' Red Wine retorts, remembering how Double Scoop had accidentally let slip of their off-stage names; thankfully nobody but Yuxiang heard it, and their names were rather complicated, so they weren't in trouble. 'It's better to be safe than sorry,' Toso's slanted eyes cut into him.

Red Wine raises his arms up in a mock surrender, 'alright, got it. No names, no paps. Got it.' 

 

The whole world knew Red Wine had a...  _thing_ for a rising model in Spaghetti's care; which meant that the moment the "meeting" was over, he was  _bombarded._

'Loverboy, oh, loverboy!' Boston cackles, trapping him in front of a wall, white hair bunned up loosely, 'aren't  _you_ in luck, hmn?' There's an edge in his voice, taunting him to rise up to the challenge, 'I'm afraid I'm unsure of what you're implying, Boston Lobster.' He tackles the other man smoothly, sliding out of the crevice with ease, 'if you  _must_ bother someone, I'm sure Peking Duck is free right now.' 

The dark blush on the albino's face is a suffice spoil of war, he supposes. 

Unfortunately for him, Peking Duck was someone who's  _just_  as cheeky as Red Wine himself, which means he's bounding for trouble the moment he sees the Oriental man step around the corner, a pipe hanging out his lips. 'Oh? My, how lucky you are, indeed.' The brunet smiles, sharp and serene. Red Wine curses internally, wishing he'd brought B-52 with him; at least with the young sport around, those two would be tamer. 'What was the lad's name, again?' Peking hums, pretending to be deep in thought, tapping a finger against his cheek. 

'Steak, right?' Boston replies, smirking. Peking gasps, snapping his fingers, 'yes, yes! Boston, you're right!' Red Wine wants to punch a wall right now, irritation sweeping up his lungs as the two of them continue their tirade. 'I hope he's doing well! He appeared in a Playboy issue last week, didn't he? That boy does have a body I envy,' the brunet sighs, eyeing Boston slyly. 'Really, now?' Red Wine would bet Peking's doing this to spite Boston for his...  _stunt_ with Spicy Gluten as well. 'Why not you accompany me to the photoshoot tomorrow and ask Steak for his training regime?' 

Peking's smile turns wicked, eyes twinkling with laughter, 'would Yuxiang mind, though?' Red Wine shrugs, forcing his fingers to remain lax, 'who knows?' Out of the corner of his peripherals, Red Wine relishes in the anger rolling off Boston in waves, 'I need to get going now, apologies, gentlemen!' With a last wave, he makes himself scarce, not wanting to witness the fight that's bound to ensue.

'Honestly, this cat and mouse game of courting is endlessly tiring,' Red Wine drawls, shaking his head as he returns to his room.

 

He bumps into the chatty Cola next, watching the poor boy stumble through the corridor. Worried, he quickens his pace, 'Cola!' The usually energetic boy swivels around, falling on top of him. 

Cola makes a weird squawking sound, like a keysmash in real life, sitting up and holding his head in his hands, cheeks absolutely  _red_ and burning. Red Wine blinks, confused, 'are you  _drunk?'_ He asks incredulously, chalking up the weird behaviour to a hangover. Cola makes more noise, drawing the attention of a sleepy Napoleon Cake. The both of them stare at him, watching with varying levels of amusement. 

'Is he high?' Napoleon whispers, inching away from them.  _I don't know!_ He mouths back, making weird hand motions to shoo Napoleon away. The Frenchman replies with a series of signs he's never seen before, adding to his frustration. Eventually, Napoleon retreats to his room, tuckered out from the day. Cola's still a blubbering mess, sobbing and close to hysteria. 

Scooting closer, Red Wine hugs him awkwardly, cringing as Cola sobs into his shirt. 'There, there,' he soothes, mind switching from confusion to pure murder. 'Tell me what's wrong, hmn?' He coaxes, patting Cola's back, adjusting the cap on his head. Cola takes a shuddering breah, tipping his head up slightly, conflicted. Red Wine gives his best smile, laying the final piece of his trap. 

Cola sniffs for the last time, pathetically rubbing at a red nose. Red Wine zones in the oversized jacket he's wearing, the offending green article of clothing could only belong to one person... He tries not to think about it, zipping it up to help the poor boy preserve heat. 

'What would you do if your best friend confessed to you?' 

Red Wine pulls the zipper with all his strength, glaring at the jacket.  _Ah, must be that boy Hamburger,_ his smile drops. Cola yelps, jerking back, staring at him wide eyes. 'What would  _I_ do?' He hums, lifting who he considers his brother up, ignoring the protests, 'I'll probably kill Hamburger, that's what.' The boy snarls, punching him in the shoulder, 'no you won't!' 

He lifts an eyebrow, pushing the door open, 'wouldn't I? If his confession already made you  _this_ miserable, I don't want to think about how you would suffer if you started going out with him.' Cola complains that he's being unfair, but is cut off when he's dumped ungracefully onto his bed. 'However, if those tears are that of happiness, I don't see a reason as to why I need to hurt him.'

Red Wine pretends not to see the blinding grin his brother gives him as he turns around.

 

The next day couldn't arrive sooner, he laments, staring at his person of interest from across the room; eyes following wherever he went. A soft smile dances across his lips, seeing the younger man apologise for knocking into someone and offer to help the other person with menial tasks.  _Cute,_ his mind chants, admiring the way his shirt rode up to reveal a sliver of tantalising skin. Steak was well-built - if any of his photos were to indicate.  _Very_ well built. Red Wine shifted in his seat, resting his head on his arms, observing the other man even more. 

 _Oh, what I would do to him..._ He sighs, thoughts running down the gutter as Steak bends forward to pick up scattered ribbons. Though he knew it could only be a fantasy, it doesn't stop him from wandering down the rabbit hole. 

Tusu coughs, tapping his shoulder, 'might want to keep your thirst in check, Red.' He gives her a nasty grin, watching the way she takes a swig of her water clumsily, 'oh, I'm just  _hungry_ now.' She coughs, swatting at him as he cackles, swearing up and down to eviscerate him one day. He merely allows him to exact her revenge, laughing at her drunken actions. 'Serves you right for turning up to work drunk, Miss Manager.' 

She gives him a final glare, walking away with enough grace to pass off for a princess.  _Wonder how she does it,_ he ponders, unaware of B-52 creeping up next to him. 

'U-uhm,' he squeaks, pale and fidgety, 'Red?' His playful demeanour drops, 'who do I need to kill this time?' The young model hisses, plastering a hand over his mouth, 'n-nobody! I was just wondering if I could ask you something, that's all!' Red Wine nods, worried and angry all the same. B-52 drops down into a seat, curling up into a ball almost immediately - and  _this_ causes Red Wine to wonder even  _more,_ how does the boy do this? - gold eye glowing softly under the blaring lights. 

They sit in silence for a while, watching each other's body language. Red Wine picks up his fork, taking a bite of cake before pushing the plate to the boy. B-52 accepts it, staring at it as he speaks, 'do you... think that you're nothing more than an object sometimes... in front of all the lights and cameras?' His voice is soft, so full of doubt; a twinge of hurt flakes in Red Wine's chest, hands curling up in his lap.  _I'm going to hunt that asshole down and serve her as dinner._ 'When I first started out, yes,' B-52's shoulders release a bit of their tension, and he knows he's on the right path, 'but as time went on, I realised that I could move however I like because  _I'm_ the one modelling,  _I'm_ the one bringing those products to life. Even if the photographer says otherwise, being  _comfortable_ with your brands makes it more convincing, more fun - and that's when you know you've succeeded.' 

B-52 raises his head, piercing eyes full of awe. Red Wine smiles, 'being a model doesn't mean you have to listen to instructions and be a puppet all the time, y'know? Most times, the shots taken when we're having fun and being genuinely  _happy_ are the ones that end up being used on posters and billboards.' 

'Oh,' the blond murmurs, sitting up straighter, 'I think I get it, now! Thank you!' He shouts, dashing off to find Tusu, probably. Red Wine waves, eyes searching for the offender, catching an irksome photographer hanging behind the others.  _Found you,_ he smiles, standing up.  _What fun I'll have with **you.**_

'Miss Photographer?' He asks, feigning confusion, 'I'm afraid I've lost sight of 52, have you seen him?' The lady harrumphs, tattling on and on about how useless the younger model was, snapping at him to go bother someone else if he was looking for B-52. 'I see, so you haven't seen him,' he sighs, 'my, I wonder what Vodka would do if she heard that I've lost her nephew. Oh, by the way!' He cheekily reveals his phone, which had been recording for quite some time, 'I hope you know that these words will come back to bite you soon!' 

The photographer pales, a terrible sheet white against extravagant clothes, 'w-wait, you wouldn't...' Horror dawns on her face as he sends the audio clip to Vodka, adding a message to go with it.  _Found a rat after your boy, Drunk Aunt~_ Red Wine frowns, thunderous, 'hurt any of the younger models, and see what'll become of you.' He shoves her aside, barking for security to get her out of there, glancing at Tusu for a split second before approaching Yuxiang. 

Tusu nods an affirmative, B-52 talking animatedly to her. Red Wine rests his case, everything else will be settled by her and Vodka. 

 

He's tugged aside forcefully, stumbling gracefully into a certain man's vision. 'Yuxiang, does it kill to be more gentle?' He questions dryly, trying to get a reaction out of her. Sadly, she does nothing but wait for him to get into business mode.  _Honestly, this is no fun,_ he huffs, straightening out his jacket. At her side is the man that's been haunting his dreams for  _months_ now, watching him with curious eyes and a mask of indifference. 

A smile curves up his face, that familiar, dangerous thrill shooting down his spine again, 'and who's  _this?'_ He teases, pleased that the other model flushes slightly at his tone. 'This is your new partner, Steak,' Yuxiang introduced, a warning in her eyes. The redheaded male gave him a shy smile, hand outstretched, 'pleased to meet you, Red Wine.' Red Wine's grin stretches into a predatory smirk, dark eyes sparking with interest. He grabs the offered hand, tugging Steak into an embrace. The younger model yelps, flushing a brilliant pink. 

'I like my steak raw, thank you.'

The adorable blush and awkward fumbling from Steak was probably the most rewarding thing in his modelling career. 

_What shall I do with you, Steak?_

**Author's Note:**

> Suffer with me on my [tumblr.](https://yellow-wine.tumblr.com/)


End file.
